Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome
by The Batchild
Summary: Natalia was an assassin recruited during the Borgia occupation; Isobel was her descendent. Ezio was Natalia's friend and teacher, her hope after a disaster; Desmond was Isobel's window into a new life.
1. Present 01: On the Run

I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Present 01 – On the Run.

* * *

"Shit, shit, shit."

Isobel looked over her shoulder and shook some of her black hair from her face. The man in the suit was still following her. Abstergo was still on her. And he was getting closer.

"Shit, shit, shit."

She put on another burst of speed and said a silent thank you that everything in the area was harvested for the time being; while the crops would have made hiding easier, they would have made running so much harder. It was better to run from Abstergo. Not hide. Not until you found a _really _good spot anyway, and a really good spot there was not in the middle of the Italian countryside. So she ran faster, aimed towards the walls on the horizon, steadily growing larger. Whatever the village was—and unless it was crawling with Templars—it would provide much better hiding spots than the open countryside. She had to make it to that village. She had to get away from the blond agent.

Isobel reached the wall a few moments later, barely ahead of the Abstergo agent. Without slowing, she ran up the wall, the well-worn soles of her boots easily gripping the aged stone of the wall. Her hands, calloused from much use, found holds seemingly of their own accord and she made her way quickly towards the ramparts.

But scaling a wall was cake when you'd been trained your whole life as an assassin.

That was why Abstergo wanted her now and why she had no parents.

They had both been killed after they had opened the door to Abstergo agents, agents who had tracked them for years, agents posing as salesmen; since they all wore suits, it wasn't that hard of a disguise to take on. Isobel had learned from their mistake, just as she had learned everything else from them; from her father who was a true assassin and from her mother who had spent a lifetime amongst the brotherhood. Isobel had thought her parents were indestructible. Evidently, she had been wrong. She never took her hidden blade off her wrist. It was always hidden beneath her clothes, ready at a moment's notice. It was always out and ready when someone she didn't know came to the door. On her Italian vacation, that was everyone.

Of the agents that had come to her door earlier that night, she had killed one, allowing her time to run. Now she just had to find a place to hide, a place that would allow her to kill the second agent should the need arise.

Isobel vaulted over the top of the wall as the Abstergo flunky entered the city through more conventional means, her feet crunching against the terracotta tiles. She ran across the small roof and dropped down a level, those tiles cracking under her sudden weight. As she made her way a little farther into the city, she chanced a look over her shoulder, still sprinting along the rooftops of the small Tuscan village, and found the blond man much too close for her liking; he had managed to find a way onto the roofs as well. Isobel groaned and leapt across an alley, just managing to grab the edge of the roof on the other side. Her front slammed into the wall, but she had braced for it and scrambled onto the roof proper before more than two seconds had passed. She leapt a smaller alley and skidded along the tiles of a sloped roof, using the momentum to launch herself up to a higher roof.

She heard the Abstergo agent curse as he reached the alley. He yelled something at her, but she couldn't make it out. Isobel just kept running, hoping he didn't have a gun. They had guns sometimes. She'd been shot once and it wasn't an experience she was keen on having again. Ever. She had to find someplace to hide. In a few moments, she would be far enough away from away from the man that hiding would be an option. The young assassin scrambled over the edge of another roof, bringing her up a few feet higher and sprinted for the edge; the Abstergo man was on the ground now, having been forced to take the ladder down to keep following her.

"Shit, shit, shit."

At the edge of the current roof, Isobel found what she was looking for—a well. A small smile played across her face. Finally, a break. Isobel took a deep breath and, summoning that part inside that was all assassin, she leapt from the rooftop, formed her body into a graceful dive with her arms spread out to either side and disappeared into the chilly water of the well below with hardly a splash. The water felt good on her sweaty skin, and she had to keep herself from sighing, knowing the noise would echo.

The Abstergo agent couldn't have seen her, but Isobel was unaware for the second pair of eyes watching her.

* * *

Desmond couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Perched on of the highest roofs in Monteriggioni, the assassin peered down at the village rooftops, watching the dark shapes move throughout the cityscape. The girl was in remarkable shape and was dressed all in dark colours. She moved as though she had done this a million times before. She had to be an assassin—who else could run over the rooftops like that?

_Screw that_, Desmond thought as he watched her launch herself from the rooftop. _Who else could perform a Leap of Faith? _But that would make the man chasing her a Templar from Abstergo. _Shit._

Without another thought, Desmond leapt from the roof, grabbing a drainage pipe as it came into reach and sliding down to the ground. He sprinted through the streets until he was close to the blond man and ducked behind a house. Formulating a plan as he moved, Desmond snuck down an alley, looking for something of suitable weight that he could throw at the Templar. He wasn't sure it would distract the man, but he had to try something. He found a chunk of the cobblestone street that had come loose and threw it hard, but not hard enough to knock the agent out. The agent cursed and looked directly at the shadows where Desmond was hiding. After a second, he started walking towards the alley and Desmond bolted around to the other side of the house, the path bringing him out in front of the well.

He peeked over the edge. "Hey, give me your hand," he whispered.

The girl looked up at him, her black hair sticking to her face with the water; she had bright olive green eyes. "Ezio," she breathed, her eyes widening.

Desmond gave her a confused look, but didn't take the time to ask her how the hell she knew who he was. He wrapped his hands around her wrists and pulled her out of the water. The footsteps behind him delayed the opportunity for talking even farther.

Thinking fast, Desmond pushed the girl backwards into the shadows of the nearby house, hiding her with his body. He put a hand on either side of her and pressed in close, like he would kiss her. She inhaled sharply, startled, but picked up on the charade. She raised her face to his, putting their lips close together, less than a breath apart. The Abstergo agent appeared and drew closer to the pair. Desmond brushed his nose along the girl's cheek and she ran her hands up his chest until she could lock them behind his head. Their lips brushed; they shared a breath. Just a couple in the shadows. Nothing of interest.

The agent seemed to agree. He stared at them for a moment longer, grumbled something and then disappeared down the street.

Desmond and the girl stared at each other a moment longer from their terribly close distance, the air suddenly tense, an electricity dancing between them. It was Desmond who backed away first, just a few inches to check if the agent really was gone, but it served well enough to break the tension.

Once Desmond was sure the man was gone and well out of hearing range, he stepped back farther from the girl and gestured upward. "Come on," he said. "Let's get out of here."

The girl followed him. "Isobel," she said, hoisting herself up towards the roof. "My name is Isobel."

"Desmond."

Isobel nodded as she walked with Desmond along the roof. "Okay Desmond. Where are we going?"

"To the Sanctuary."

Isobel nodded, but didn't say anything else on the subject. If she really was an assassin—and there was very little doubt in Desmond's mind that she was—she knew that they would be headed for a safe house, somewhere the Abstergo satellites couldn't find them, and she knew they would have to get there before true daylight when they would be easy to spot outside. "Where are we?" she asked instead.

"Monteriggioni."

She followed Desmond up to the roof of what was obviously a large manor, looking around as she did so. "That would make this Auditore manor then, wouldn't it?"

Desmond turned to look at her, the grey light of first dawn silhouetting her against the sky. He had the distinct impression that he had been in this situation before; the ghostly image of another woman danced around the edges of Isobel's face. Shaking off the memory, Desmond nodded and settled himself on the roof, back against the wall of a raised section of the manor. When Isobel had sat down beside him, knees drawn up to her chest and arms wrapped around her legs, he looked at her and asked the question he'd been wanting too since they'd met. "How do you know Ezio?"

Isobel shifted on the tile and ran the fingers of one hand back through her hair. "Well. As you've obviously figured out, I'm an assassin, like you." She took a deep breath, seemingly preparing herself for what she was going to say next. Desmond reached across the space and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "I was captured by Abstergo seven years ago, after they killed my parents," she said after another moment. "They shoved me in the Animus—an older version, mind you, one that did some serious shit to my head—and sifted through my DNA memories, looking for something." She put her forehead on her knees and squeezed them closed. "There were so many memories... so many different ancestors. The one they spent the most time with though... She knew Ezio." Isobel looked up at Desmond, her cheek on her knees. There was something different about her eyes, like she was looking into the past. "She was one of the assassins he recruited during the Borgia occupation of Rome."

Desmond did a quick run through of the assassins he'd seen Ezio recruit so far. "Natalia?"

Isobel smiled at him, her olive green eyes catching some of the early morning light, a flash of colour. The ghostly image of the woman was back—it was Natalia. "Good guess."

"You look like her," Desmond told her.

"Really?"

The young man nodded. For a moment, they sat there, close together and watched the sunrise. "How did you escape?" he asked.

"Luck—no joke. Two years ago, I was getting out of the Animus and collapsed from exhaustion and the after effects of the machine. My handler ran to get one of the doctors. I came too while he was gone and there was a window open."

"Really?"

"Really. Of course, because I had just come out of the Animus, I wasn't the steadiest on my feet and wasn't able to channel the assassin or whatever. I fell to a balcony several floors down. I twisted so I didn't break my legs, but I did break my left arm. The woman in the office of the balcony opened the door and pulled me inside. She was one of the employees of the cover of Abstergo. She didn't know about the Animus or the Templars or anything like that, so she was pretty startled by me falling out of the sky, but she took me to a hospital and... I was free." Isobel paused. "Well, I had to escape from the hospital, and since then Abstergo agents have been following me all over the place."

Desmond looked at her, one eyebrow raised. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Before tonight I hadn't seen one in almost three months, but I guess it was too good to last."

"I don't believe that how's you escaped from Abstergo."

Isobel shrugged. "Believe it or not." She pushed back the sleeve of her baggy blue knit sweater and shoved her left arm under Desmond's nose. "Those scars are from breaking my arm. The bone popped through my skin."

Desmond ran his fingertips lightly across the scars. "It still sounds too easy."

"Well, I suppose I forgot to mention the three guards I took out before I climbed out the window..." She and Desmond looked at each other, staring, Desmond with a quirked eyebrow and Isobel with a smirk on her lips. "Okay, so I didn't, but you can think that if it makes the story more believable."

The assassin smiled. "Would you be up for an Animus session?" he asked suddenly. "I'd like to see things from another assassin's point of view."

Isobel blinked, and then nodded. As an assassin, she likely would have heard the story of how Desmond and his friends had escaped from Abstergo, so it wouldn't have been surprising that they had an Animus and the necessary tools to use it. "Sure," she said. "I don't see the harm in that. Do you think anyone would mind?"

* * *

"Absolutely not."

"Lucy—"

"Desmond, she could be an Abstergo spy! And you brought her here!"

Following some instinct, Desmond wrapped an arm around Isobel's middle, stopping her from stepping up and slapping Lucy. As it was, she glared and wrapped her hands tightly around Desmond's arm. "I am not a Templar spy!" she spat. "I am an assassin! From a long line of assassins! Unlike you."

Desmond shot Isobel a look that she knew in her bones. She shut her mouth but kept her hands on Desmond's arm; he kept his arm around her waist. "Lucy, she's a descendent of Natalia Fia-Costa. She's an assassin."

There were a few moments of silence. Rebecca, Shauna and Lucy had all seen Ezio meet Natalia. Lucy seemed torn. Rebecca and Shaun were smiling. It was Rebecca who broke the awkward silence. "Come on Luce," she pleaded. "It could be fun. I mean, no offense Desmond, but watching Ezio run around can get boring. And this could give us some new information for... well, everything. We've never seen the memories from another side. This could be really valuable."

"I'm... going to have to agree with Rebecca on this one, unfortunately," Shaun said.

Lucy held her ground a moment longer and then relented. She huffed and rolled her eyes. "Fine. I'm going to run into town to get some food." The other four watched Lucy grab her bag and leave the hideout.

"Gee," Shaun said, "You think something's bothering her?"

Isobel shot the cynical Brit a glare before disengaging from Desmond's arms. "What's her problem?"

"Lucy's just a little..."

"High strung?" Rebecca offered.

Desmond nodded. "She's really not that bad once you get to know her."

Isobel ran her fingers back through her black hair, shaking it out. She shoved the sleeves of her sweater back over her elbows, exposing the arm brace with the hidden blade inside on her left arm and a long, neat scar along the inside of her right forearm that looked like a knife wound and probably had come from training with bladed weapons. Desmond had spent time with assassins and knew the training the young ones went through—he was surprised he had no scars to match. Isobel turned to face Desmond and smiled, a little sardonically.

"Clearly you've had some experience with Natalia," she said, sliding her hands into the pockets of her black jeans.

The young man nodded, a similar smile pulling at his lips. "A little. She's..."

"A pain in the ass?"

"Sometimes," he replied around laughter. "It'll be interesting to see the memories from the other side."

"I bet. Do you think I could see some of the stuff from Ezio's point of view? I want to know if she was as important to him as he was to her." Isobel paused. "Although I doubt it."

Desmond shrugged. "He didn't take her from granted."

"Okay," Rebecca said. "She's all ready for you."

Isobel sighed and stared at the familiar red and white chair for a moment. Desmond placed a hand on her shoulder, knowing full well that the thoughts in her head were on the past, the last time she'd been in an Animus—when she'd been forced to use the machine. The young woman placed her hand on top of Desmond's before curling her fingers around his and giving a tight squeeze. It was clear something in their DNA remembered each other—they were comfortable around each other, familiar with the mannerisms and the feel of having the other close. It was an odd experience, but after channelling their ancestors through the Animus, it wasn't completely unexpected.

"Well, let's get this started," she said as she pulled away. Isobel sat in the chair and closed her eyes, taking a final breath to ready herself. When she opened her olive green eyes, she slid her arm into the machine and nodded at Rebecca, who keyed the sequence into the computer and started the Animus.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

So this is going to be a short fic, but that's okay.

It's Assassin's Creed, yay!

Er... that's all I have to say.

Enjoy!

**Next Chapter: Sequence 01 – Destruction of the Family. **


	2. Sequence 01: Destruction of the Family

I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Sequence 01 – Destruction of the Family.

* * *

The market wasn't very busy, but that was the advantage of coming early in the morning to get the shopping done. Others were starting to trickle in and around the stalls, but Natalia Fia-Costa was almost finished her shopping and was eager to head home. There was a lot to be done today. Her father-in-law was coming to inspect the farm—one of several he owned—the evening and see how his son and daughter-in-law were keeping it up. He was also coming to see his granddaughters, but that was always secondary on his mind. Natalia wasn't terribly excited about his visit, since it just meant there was more to do then there normally was, but there was no use in complaining.

She was on her way out of the market square, located in the centre of the small gathering of buildings on the outskirts of Rome, when she was stopped by a young vender with a large smile on his face and an array of fresh fruit surrounding him.

"Fresh grapes this morning?" he asked.

Natalia smiled at the vendor and nodded, withdrawing her purse from the pocket of her skirt. "One bunch, please." She dug the money out of her pouch and handed it to him as he passed her the small basket of red grapes. The young mother inhaled deeply of the fruit, eyes closed. "These smell wonderful."

"Just got them delivered this morning."

She smiled again and set the fruit on top of the meat in her bag and continued her trek out of the market; had to have fresh meat for the visiting relatives.

It was a warm day already and very pleasant, although it promised to get quite hot. Working did not seem so much of a task on days like this. Natalia manoeuvred through the early-morning traffic to the edge of the cluster of buildings where her large, black mare was hitched, nibbling at the grass at her hooves. The ornate black tack her horse wore seemed slightly out of place in this rural area of Rome, but they had been passed down to Natalia from her father and she would never sell it. It was all she had left of her family. Talking quietly to the animal to make her aware to Natalia's presence, she began filling the saddlebags with the food and supplies she had purchased that morning, packing the bags tight with pieces of cloth to keep the contents from shifting. She checked the bags' attachment to the saddle, the saddle itself, and then unhitched her horse and climbed into the saddle with more grace than any farm girl would possess under normal circumstances. Natalia's father had taught her how to ride.

The ride back to the farm was rather long when you couldn't canter or gallop—and Natalia liked to canter whenever she rode—but it was a ride Natalia had made hundreds, if not thousands of times and she knew the path like the back of her hand, which made it possible for her to let her eyes wander and enjoy the landscape around her; she was pretty sure her mare could make the journey by herself, anyway. The rich green of the trees and the fields was emboldened by the gold hues of the early-morning sun. Farmers, labourers and slaves were starting to move around their crops, watering and weeding and here and there, children could be seen hauling water from wells to houses, playing or tending to animals, and women could be seen rolling dough through kitchen windows or outside on worn wooden tables. Everyone had their windows and doors uncovered or open, letting the air in.

Natalia may not have liked waking up, but mornings like this weren't so bad.

She sighed happily and closed her eyes as her horse continued the trek eastward toward the farm.

Her mare, normally a calm beast, suddenly stopped, whinnied and tossed her head, hooves stamping and panicked breaths steaming from her nose.

"Hush," Natalia said, leaning over the horse's neck and stroking the side of her face. "Hush." The horse stopped neighing, but her hooves still stamped the ground and she still moved side to side. As she settled back into the saddle, Natalia's dark green eyes swivelled along the horizon, and she ended up facing in the direction of her farm. She saw what had spooked her horse and the cold hand of panic tightened in her own chest.

There was a large, thick pillar of black smoke rising into the air above her farm. The farm was on fire.

Cursing under her breath and forgetting the food and supplies in her saddlebags, Natalia dug her heels into her horse's sides and spurred her onward at a gallop. The mare's powerful strides ate up the distance and as they drew closer, Natalia could hear the cries of the horses as they panicked, ran and as they were killed. Cries of cows and chickens echoed the horses and Natalia had to fight the urge to scream with them. There were no human cries. Maybe her husband and daughters had got away... But more likely, they were already dead. Natalia urged her mare faster but was forced to stop about fifty feet away from the house due to the crowd gathering around what remained of her farm. She leapt from the saddle, letting the mare run away; she would come back when Natalia called.

"What's going on?" she demanded of the man who owned the farm next to hers—what was his name? That didn't matter right then. "What's happening?"

He grabbed Natalia's upper arms and forced her to look at him. "Natalia, get out of here! It's the Borgia!"

"The Borgia?" She cursed and tried to pull away from the man. "Let me go!" she snapped when he held on. "I have to help them!"

"They have already killed your family! Get out of here before they kill you as well!"

Natalia suddenly stopped pulling, causing the man to fall towards her. She slammed her head into his face and he finally let go, hands flying to his face to stem the flow of blood from his nose. The young woman whirled around and spotted another neighbour whose name she also couldn't recall—she had found her focus, and that was all she could see or think about—but he had a knife at his belt. She grabbed it and moved towards the house, determined to find the Borgia and kill them for taking her family. The Borgia had to pay.

There was a trellis over the back garden that was at the opposite end of the yard from where the Borgia were; they were at the front of the house, occupied with God knew what. Natalia climbed up the trellis, using a crate placed at the base and the vines that had grown up around the wood to hoist herself up to the top and the criss-crossing beams. Always having been in possession of phenomenal balance, running along the beams of the trellis to the roof of the house was an easy task, but what followed would not be. Natalia had not been trained how to fight, how to kill anyone, but she was going to. She had a logical mind—she could think of something. First things first, find the Borgia. She silently moved across the terracotta tiles until she could see the Borgia guards, but didn't go so far that they might see her.

Her family was not dead.

They were restrained, tied to beams of the fence surrounding the horse's front paddock. They had all been gagged and they were all bleeding from various visible wounds. She choked back a cry. Her daughters, Anna and Katarina, were crying but they were not struggling and, for the moment anyway, the Borgia guards seemed to be ignoring them; Natalia said a silent prayer that her girls would live through this. Her husband, on the other hand, she did not have the same hope for. Francesco could not be seen for all the Borgia guards standing around him, their arms moving with whips and bludgeoning with fists. They were screaming things about money owed and Natalia had no idea what they were talking about but her husband's cries were enough to make her not care.

But why would they owe money to the Borgia?

Natalia shook her head.

Regardless of their reasons for being there, Natalia wanted them gone. She had to save her family.

Natalia crept along the roof until she reached the edge closest to the scene. The farthest corner of the roof jutted out over one of the guards, a man who looked like he might be the leader—judging by his uniform. Natalia adjusted herself and her grip on the stolen knife and took in a deep breath, going to the place inside her that was all nothingness. It was the place she went to when she was stressed or when she had to do something she didn't want to do; she was well aware that this was a skill not everyone possessed, so she kept it secret and just enjoyed that she had this skill—that she had a way to cope when many did not. As prepared as she was ever going to be, Natalia folded her legs underneath her, the soles of her boots gripping the tiles and giving her the leverage she would need.

Silently—hoping that she might be able to kill the guard without drawing the attention of the others—Natalia crept closer to the edge and dropped down facing the guard. Surprise was all that allowed her to drive the knife into his throat, pointing up towards his brain. The Borgia guard gave a guttural cry, altering the others. Natalia frantically grabbed for the knife, but he folded in on himself, hiding the weapon. She had no skill fighting hand to hand, especially not with trained guards, but she was strong; she had spent most of her life working on the farm. If only she could get to the farm tools...

"Get back here bitch!" one of the Borgia guards yelled as she ran.

She had to find something to fight with. Natalia made for the shed, where the harvesting tools were kept.

Something heavy slammed into her back, knocking the wind from her lungs and sending her to the ground. A sack of chicken feed rolled onto the ground beside her. As she struggled to her hands and knees, a booted food knocked her back down and pressed against her spine, grinding her chest into the ground. A hand grabbed her black hair and pulled her head up, bending her back painfully; something cracked and she fought the urge to squirm because she knew it would make it worse.

"Do you have our money?"

"I don't know anything about your money!" Natalia yelled, knowing it was useless.

The man pulled her head back farther and she did scream. "Maybe we'll take what we owe from your daughters," sneered one of the guards.

"No! Anything but that!"

The guard holding her hair hauled to her feet by that handhold so he could look her in the eye. "You're all right looking, for a farm bitch. I could take my payment from you..." The guard's face twisted into a nasty grin.

Natalia pulled her arm back and punched the man in the face. She wasn't sure why—logically, she knew that was a bad idea—but she knew she was enraged by what was being done to her family and she wanted revenge. She wanted to fight, for the Borgia guards to hurt and she wanted to cause that hurt. With a cry, the injured guard slapped her across the face and then tossed her roughly to the ground, her shoulder smacking into the outer wall of the house. Lying disoriented on the ground, Natalia got a glimpse of the paddock at the back, where the horses had been grazing. They were all dead. Stabbed and now burning.

The rage flared hot.

Natalia got to her feet under her own power and charged the guard, wrapped her arms around his middle and using every bit of her weight to shove him backwards. He went a few steps before digging his boots it and stopping their movement. He drove a knee into her middle and slammed his metal gauntlet into the side of her head.

Stars danced across her vision and Natalia crumbled to the ground. As the blackness overtook her sight, she saw a flash of white and heard someone scream.

* * *

Isobel fell out of the Animus and hit the ground hard, coughing and choking. She pushed herself up onto her hands and knees, her blue sweater clinging to her form with sweat, and tried to get to her feet. She could not. Her vision was swimming; she thought she might pass out. "Damn it," she muttered. Desmond appeared at her side and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her up gently to her feet, even though she had to lean heavily on him to remain upright. "I forgot how much I hate that thing," she groaned, pressing her face into Desmond's sweater. She closed her eyes.

Desmond smiled down at her, brushed his lips against the top of her head and moved her to the closest chair so she could sit down, kneeling in front of her so he could look her in the eye still. "It's been a while since you used an Animus?" he asked, brushing some of the sweat-damped hair back from her face.

Isobel nodded and put her forehead against Desmond's, closing her eyes. "Oh yeah. But it was never an easy thing for me, not even after going in several times. They _loved _me at Abstergo for that. Said I was resisting. I was punished for it." She coughed again, backing away from Desmond as she did so. He shifted so he could rub her back. "Shit," she laughed as she gathered her breath.

"Are you going to be okay?" Desmond asked, half-joking.

Isobel's answering smile was genuine. "I'll be fine. Just give me a minute." Isobel sat back farther and coughed again, rubbing her eyes rather harshly with the heels of her palms, seemingly shaking off the last effects of the Animus. "I take it the Animus is easier on you? Like it is for most people."

Desmond nodded. "I've been in their near constantly for what feels like a very long time."

"Bleeding?"

Again, the young man nodded. "So much that I'm becoming an assassin without any training."

Isobel smiled, but it was a slightly bitter grin. She knew what he was getting at. "When I found out what I was and what was in store for me, I didn't want to take part in it, either. I didn't want the training. My father told me I'd be disowned and I'd bring great shame to him if I didn't become an assassin. So I sucked it up and did the training." Isobel shook her head, moving her black hair around and then got to her feet, stretching her hands up to the ceiling.

Desmond stood up with her and they started walking around the circular room without any cue to each other. They walked so close together their arms and hands repeatedly brushed against one another. Isobel's eyes kept drifting back and forth from Desmond's face to the statues around the room of former assassins in Desmond's line, taking in all the detail with a small smile on her face. Eventually she came to a stop in front of the statue of Altair, hands on her hips as she stared up into the face of the statue. As Desmond stopped beside her, she dropped her eyes, her gaze finding the collection of artifacts Desmond had found around Monteriggioni.

"These were Ezio's," she said, fingers lightly dancing over the feather box and the cape.

He nodded. "And that," he said, pointing back up at Altair, "is Altair."

"Another ancestor?"

Again a nod. "Not as much fun as Ezio," he added with a smile.

"Other than Natalia, I don't know any of my other ancestors. Abstergo was only interested in Natalia. They thought she knew something about a Piece of Eden, whatever that is."

Desmond went silent, but didn't drop his gaze from Isobel's curious face. He ran a hand back over his short hair and sighed, casting a glance towards Rebecca and Shaun, wondering if he could divulge the secret, if he could tell Isobel anything about the Pieces of Eden.

"If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to," Isobel said with a smile. "I'm not here to pry."

"Essentially, it's a weapon Abstergo wants."

"Well, I figured as much."

"Hey guys," Rebecca called. "The Animus is back up whenever you want to get back at it."

* * *

**Author's Note.**

I think I'm going to put little present bits at the end of each chapter, just for story-telling purposes and character building. Otherwise, you don't get to see Isobel a lot and I like her. She's got more to say than just what comes at the beginning and end of this story.

If you can't tell (and if you read more than one of my fics) I'm updating in an order, and the order is the order in which my stories "in progress" appear in my profile. This is the fourth fic in the rotation, but I have some time right now before my research papers descend on me to bang out some updates. Things will slow down a bit, but I'll keep updating anyway, because that's just how I roll.

Anyways, enjoy this chapter.

**Next Chapter: Sequence 02 – Salvation in Recruitment. **


	3. Sequence 02: Salvation in Recruitment

I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Sequence 02—Salvation in Recruitment.

* * *

Natalia groaned and rolled over, meeting a wall as she did so. When her face touched the cool plaster however, she started back into the world of the waking and sat bolt upright in bed; the wall beside her bed was rough, not smooth like this one. Her head flared sharply and she groaned again, this time in pain, and flopped back down in the strange bed, her green eyes roving around, taking in the strange room and the strange sounds and smells... Where was she? Where were her daughters? Her husband?

"Shit," she coughed, throat rough with lack of use and water.

"Those are no words for a lady."

Natalia had to remind herself of the pain in her head to keep from sitting up quickly again. She slowly pushed herself upward and found herself looking at a strange man, a sight fitting in with all the strangeness of her situation. He was tall and obviously fit, wearing the white and red robes of the assassins. Fear clutched at Natalia's heart, but if the assassin had been targeting her for whatever reason, she would already be dead. She would not be lying in bed with—she paused, mentally checking over her body—yes, her wounds tended and bandaged. The assassin mouth, the only part of his face she could easily see, curved into a knowing smirk and he entered the room, stopping several feet away from the bed Natalia was lying on.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

She tried to peer into the shadows of his hood, to make out his eyes. He obliged her unspoken request and pushed the hood back, revealing short dark hair and compelling brown eyes. There was a scar on his lips, but his face was warm and inviting and he looked... friendly. _What an odd thing to think of an assassin, _she mused. Remembering then that he had asked her a question, she summoned up her voice and answered. "My head hurts, but otherwise, I'm all right. Where am I?"

"You are with the assassins."

She gestured at his robes and winced as her head throbbed. "I gathered as much. Who are you? And where are my daughters? My husband?"

The assassin produced a stool from somewhere at the end of the bed and sat on it beside Natalia, putting himself at eye level with her. His eyes exposed something heavy inside and Natalia gasped, knowing there was nothing good coming. "My name is Ezio Auditore," he said, voice quieter than before. "The Borgia have taken your daughters and your husband, I'm sorry to tell you, was killed at your farm." He watched the news take over her face for a brief second before continuing his explanation. "One of our spies saw the attack and contacted the assassins. We came to stop the Borgia, but we were too late to save your husband. The Borgia did not kill your daughters—they are still alive. I have a man tailing the Borgia soldiers who took them. We will get them when the moment is right." He paused, took a breath. "You have been unconscious for three days, Natalia. We tended your wounds but we were afraid you would not come back."

Natalia blinked tears back and tried to find words, her head nodding vaguely, almost without provocation.

"I am sorry," Ezio said.

She nodded, sensing his words were genuine. Her hands clutched at the blanket covering her legs; she realized absently that she was no longer wearing her dress and that it had been replaced with a simple white robe. "I..." She stopped, unsure of what she was going to say. Something inside clicked and she was suddenly no longer shocked. She was angry. Furious. The once-simple farmer's wife looked up at Ezio. "You'll get them back?"

Ezio looked a little taken back by the sudden fire in her green eyes, but he nodded. "I promise you I will." His eyes shifted back and forth, as if he was thinking. "You can help if you wish. You could join the assassins, the fight against the Borgia."

Natalia started, shaking off the emotional whiplash of the last few moments in her life. But she considered the proposition thoroughly, her eyes never leaving Ezio's; she had never been one to cry. She wasn't going to start now. If she joined the assassins, she could not only get her daughters back and avenge her husband's murder, but she could stop others from going through this suffering, she could prevent others from losing those they cared about. She didn't have to be a farmer's wife anymore—this was an opportunity she would never have again. To help. To stop the Borgia. Natalia's eyes narrowed and she re-focused her gaze on Ezio. "I'll do it," she whispered.

Ezio nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Do you feel up to taking a walk?"

"Could I get some water please?"

The assassin nodded and exited the room, telling her he would be back in a moment.

While Ezio was gone, Natalia's gaze drifted out the window, to the rooftops of Rome that she could see. From what she knew of the city, she guessed she was somewhere in the southern part, and there was water nearby—she could hear it. It was a wonderful view. The magnitude of what she'd agreed to settled around her as she took in said view and she wilted slightly. She was going to become an assassin. Her husband had hated the cabal, thought they were no better than the Borgia. She grieved the loss of him, but knew she could not carry on that belief.

Ezio returned then, a cup of cool water in one hand. He paused at the bedside. "Are you sure you're all right?" he asked.

"Yes, why?" She took the beverage and down a good portion of it in one swallow.

"You are crying."

Natalia raised the fingers of one hand to her cheek and brushed them through wetness. She hadn't cried in years. Perhaps she was grieving more than she thought. "I am fine," she breathed. "They are tears for my husband."

Ezio nodded. "I understand the pain of losing your family. My father and brother were murdered as well."

Natalia looked up as the assassin's hand settled on her shoulder and, keeping her gaze connected to his, she moved her hand to touch his. "Thank you," she said. She finished the water and set the cup on the small table beside the bed. "What about that walk now?"

Knowing better than to question her resolution, Ezio shifted his grip on her hand and helped her rise from the bed. He continued to hold her hand while she took a moment to steady herself and while she took a few experimental steps forward. When she was all right to walk on her own, he let her take the lead, directing her with words out into the main part of the assassin's headquarters and then to the armoury. The other assassins who were not out on missions nodded to Ezio and to Natalia, several of them offering encouraging smiles; these assassins were friendly people. It went against much of what she had heard of them, but Natalia did not mind. She returned their smiles and continued following Ezio's directions until she was surrounded by armour and weapons, things she only knew about in theory.

Ezio gestured to the lone assassin standing in the room, and he left. Natalia was staring at her reflected in a knife that looked a lot like a tool a butcher would use and Ezio left her there while he gathered a set of robes for her to change into. Never having been accused of being modest, Natalia's only consolation to the difference in gender was to turn her back while she pulled the simple robe off and replaced it with the more ornate red and white clothing.

The outfit consisted of a pair of white leggings and a red and white tunic that hung to her knees but was loose enough that it would not hamper her running. There was a peaked hood and the sleeves covered her hands to the middle of her palms, just above the joint in her thumb. Ezio passed her a pair of soft, brown leather boots that laced up the front and had belts around the ankle and the top of the boot, just under her knee. A thick belt buckled around her hips, one that would hold weapons once she had them, while also holding the tunic in place and allowing for weapon harnesses to go across her back as well. Ezio helped her secure braces to her forearms, one of which contained a hidden blade Natalia quickly got the hang of deploying; he would have given her a piece of armour to cover her chest as well, but there was not one small enough to fit her in the room.

"How does that feel?"

Natalia looked at Ezio, a small smile on her lips. She spun around, moved her limbs. "It's actually quite comfortable."

"Good. Do you have any experience with using weapons?"

She shook her head. "The only tools I've ever used are farm tools and kitchenware."

"The people near your farm said you did quite well with a knife."

Natalia blinked, the memory of shoving the knife into the Borgia man's neck washing over her with a startling clarity. She rubbed her hands against her legs, as if she was trying to get someone nasty off them. "That was the first time I've ever used a knife for violence against another human beings," she breathed. "I can't even remember what I was thinking at the time..." Natalia realized the words sounded timid, not what you'd expect from an assassin. "But I'm not afraid to try," she said, voice strong and a little louder.

Ezio's smile was only slightly condescending, but he had clearly been around weapons for a long time. He knew what he was doing. He reached over to the knife she'd been admiring before and handed it to her. She swung it experimentally, turning away from the assassin to do so, and smiled again, her grief quickly being deadened by the possibility for revenge and prevention of further grief at the Borgia's hands.

After the first few swings, her movements became more fluid and she returned the knife to its proper place on her belt without a thought and without looking. "How did I do that?" she asked, breathless.

"Instinct," was all Ezio said, even though there was a slightly suspicious glint in his eye.

Ezio found Natalia a sword and filled one of the pouches on her belt with smoke bombs, giving her quick tips about how to use the strange devices; she'd get more weapons and gadgets when she learned how to use the ones she had. When she was ready, he took her into another room of the headquarters and introduced her to an older man, who looked rough, but had a pleasant voice, warm smile and a incredible sense of humour, not exactly a quality expected amongst assassins. His name was Giovanni and he had been the first assassin Ezio had recruited in the rebellion he was mounting against the Borgia rule in Rome—a rebellion Natalia was more than happy to join. Giovanni would be training Natalia, for lack of a better word, showing her how to use the fire and anger inside to fight the Borgia threat and they would leave immediately.

Before she followed her mentor however, Natalia turned to Ezio, who had been standing behind her, watching the exchange. "Thank you Ezio," she said, a pressure at the back of her eyes. She would not cry again. "Thank you for giving me this opportunity to save my daughters and stop the Borgia."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled. "The men with your daughters have started moving. It appears they are heading for the Castel Sant'Angelo."

"Save Anna and Katarina if you can," she pleaded.

"I will Natalia."

She forced herself to smile again and then turned and followed Giovanni towards the door of the headquarters.

* * *

Isobel's eyes snapped open and she sat bolt upright, her arm tugging painfully where it was connected to the Animus. She winced and let Rebecca free her from the machine before she moved anymore, climbing to her feet with Desmond's help. He handed her a damp cloth, which she used to wipe the sweat from her face and neck in an attempt to cool down and shake the last remnants of being in the Animus. Desmond led her over to the folding table serving as the dining area and presented her with a still-steaming Panini, which she heartily began to devour.

"I forgot how hungry you can get after using the Animus," she said between mouthfuls. "And this is delicious."

"You're welcome," Shaun said from across the space.

"Thanks." Isobel looked at Desmond, who had seated himself beside her. Rebecca and Shaun become very busy in their tasks, as they did whenever Isobel and Desmond were talking—they learned quickly—and Lucy was still nowhere to be seen. Isobel assumed she had come back at some point, but she had vanished again. Isobel did not ask where she was. "So, are you learning anything new?" she asked.

Desmond smiled and chuckled. "Yes. Natalia was more conflicted than I thought. She seemed a little cold in her acceptance of the fate of her family."

"She's an odd one," Isobel agreed, finishing off her sandwich. Desmond passed her a can of Coke that she opened immediately, knowing the sugar would help her head from swimming. "When her emotions rapidly change like that... Well, that's something I picked up last time I was in the Animus, so you'd better watch out." She smirked and fought back the urge to burst into laughter. Maybe it was already starting.

"She threw herself into becoming an assassin. Coping mechanism?"

Isobel nodded. "The woman had a knack for violence and once she was taught how to funnel her anger into violence, she became quite deadly. She was meant to be an assassin, I think."

"A true assassin?"

Isobel nodded again. "Something I apparently inherited."

"You don't sound so pleased about that."

She shook her head and waved the statement off before taking another drink from her Coke. "I don't deny or regret what I am, but it was kind of like I didn't have a choice. I told you my father's attitude on the situation. I don't mean to sound bitter, but I guess some of that sticks around."

Desmond nodded in agreement. He had shared his upbringing in the world of the assassins as well. He had tried to make a different life for himself, but the Brotherhood had caught up with him as well. "Yeah, I get that. Why do you think Ezio waited so long to tell her she was a true assassin? He obviously knew it when she picked up the knife work so quickly."

"Hey, he's your ancestor. You tell me."

Desmond chuckled again. "Good point."

After she had finished her drink, Isobel got up and started her circuit of the room, stretching as she moved. Desmond gave her a moment alone and then joined her, unable to stay away for very long from the comfort being close offered; the connection between them, based on what their ancestors had, was growing stronger the more time they spent around each other. Desmond wasn't sure if that should worry him—after all, he did have Lucy he cared about and there had been something there...—but he couldn't fight it. He didn't. And neither did Isobel.

"Why does Lucy hate me?" Isobel asked when he fell in step beside her.

"I think she's just put off by..."

"Our long-standing connection?" Isobel offered.

Desmond couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, by that, but you shouldn't let it bother you, Is. She'll warm up to you eventually."

Isobel pressed her lips into a thin line and ran the fingers of one hand back through her black hair. "I don't want to come between you at all," she said after a moment. "I didn't come here expecting to run into someone I already knew. Well, you know what I mean. Don't let me ruin things here, Desmond. This is your place. I'm just visiting."

Desmond took her hand and exhaled a barely perceptible sigh. "Is, you're not coming between Lucy and I. We... don't have anything to come between."

"Oh don't lie. I saw the way she looked at you."

He looked sideways at the young woman. She didn't look angry or put off in any way. Her face was blank, which wasn't comforting. Desmond would have been a little more at ease if she had looked angry. "Okay, so maybe there's something, but not something that's ever... happened. We're too busy working, trying to find those Pieces of Eden that Abstergo wants before they find them. You showing up has forced us to take a bit of a break, something we all needed. Lucy doesn't know when to rest. She'd keep pushing until she reached the end of her rope."

"So she sees me as disrupting your mission as well?"

"I guess so, but don't worry about it. You've only been here for half a day and it's not as if you're stopping me from using the Animus."

Isobel stifled a frustrated groan and leaned against the base of one of the statues. "This is... an interesting situation I've stumbled into."

Desmond smiled at her and moved to stand close in front of her. "Do you regret coming here?"

"Not at all," she answered with a slight grin. "I missed Natalia. I spent a lot of time inside her head and it feels... good to be back with her."

"They kind of become a part of you, don't they?"

"Yes. Maybe not as literally as with you, but yeah, she's a part of me." Isobel reached a hand out to Desmond and he took it, stepping closer to the green-eyed woman. "I'm glad I took your hand Desmond, that I let you pull me out of that well."

* * *

**Author's Note.**

More Assassin's Creed!

AssCreed Brohood for the 'chievos! Right Shauna?

Anyways, enjoy!

**Next Chapter: Sequence 03—Within the Brotherhood. **


	4. Sequence 03: Within the Brotherhood

I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Sequence 03—Within The Brotherhood.

* * *

Natalia settled into the life of the assassins quickly, throwing everything she had into the assignments she was given in other countries and tried not to think about her daughters in the hands of the Borgia. Ezio and the team he had assigned to trail the girls kept on them, but the Borgia were either smarter than they appeared or someone had alerted them to the assassins tailing them, because they kept moving Anna and Katarina, effectively eliminating any chance the cabal would have to retrieve the girls. But they were still alive, and that gave Natalia hope. She knew Ezio would keep his promise. She knew she'd have her girls back. As soon as there was an opportunity—or any sign that the bad guys would harm the girls—the assassins would move in with deadly force.

As there was nothing she could do to help the situation, and worrying was only going to get in the way, Natalia worked at taking out the Borgia everywhere she could. She learned the skills her fellow assassins had to teach and began to rise through the ranks quicker than anyone had expected, taking to every new weapon and manoeuvre as if she was born with the knowledge and had just forgotten how to apply it. She spent all her free time practicing, except when she was in Rome, at the headquarters, when she spent her time with Ezio. Sometimes they trained, but more often than not, they just talked.

Currently, Natalia was seated on the edge of the roof of the headquarters while Ezio walked in a small, slow loop behind her. They had been reviewing the latest intelligence on the Borgia who currently had her daughters, trying to figure out if there was anything they could do at this juncture, if there was any opportunity for them to move and rescue the girls.

"I'm starting to feel like we're never going to be able to save them," she sighed. The young woman put her head in her hands, leaning farther over the edge of the building. "At least they're still alive."

"Natalia," Ezio said, appearing at her shoulder, "stop talking like that. We will get your daughters back."

She huffed a little and climbed to her feet, turning in one fluid motion to face her mentor, her friend. He flashed her the tiniest smile that completely disarmed her and she smiled back. "Stop it."

"What? Making you smile?"

Natalia stepped into Ezio and gave him a playful shove. "Is there anything we can do this time?" she asked.

"Possibly."

Natalia's mood swung upward, as did the corners of her mouth. She felt like screaming with joy, but, standing on top of one of the tallest buildings in Rome meant the sound would carry. She didn't want to wake anyone up or get the guards called on her at all, so she settled for giving Ezio a wide smile and asking, "Can I come?" She didn't have to know the plan to want to join in; there was something in Ezio's dark eyes that made her feel like this might be it—the opportunity they had been waiting for to get her daughters back with minimal bloodshed, minimal Borgia involvement.

Ezio nodded, once. "I am sorry it has taken so long."

Natalia frowned. "Ezio, there is nothing to apologize for. I would have loved to have been able to get Anna and Katarina back right away—hell, I would love it if they had never been taken, but they were, and we couldn't get them back right away without a lot of innocent bystanders getting killed unnecessarily and probably a lot of assassins as well. I know that now." She stepped closer to him again, for the more experienced assassin had resumed pacing his slow circle. "Ezio, you and the assassins gave me hope that I would get my daughters back and the means by which to keep anyone else from going through what I did. You have nothing to apologize for."

The man who had killed so many Borgia, who was the head of the assassin cabal, just stared at her for a moment, apparently speechless. After the moment passed, he just nodded and then made for the door. "Shall we go?"

"I just have one more question."

Ezio stood with the door open, facing his friend. "Yes?"

"Do you think I will be ready to become an assassin soon?"

"Natalia, you have risen through the ranks faster than most of your comrades and you have been displayed signs of a true assassin since the day I met you, so yes, I think you will become an assassin very quickly."

She nodded and ran one hand back through her black hair as she approached the open doorway. "A true assassin?" she asked as she passed Ezio and started down the stairs.

"A true assassin is someone who was meant to be an assassin, someone who has had the knowledge and the skills within them from the day they were born. It is something passed down through families, through bloodlines. It is not something you can learn, and not just anyone can become a true assassin."

Natalia was silent for a few steps before she stopped and turned around so she was looking up at Ezio, standing a few steps above her. "I know nothing about anyone in my family having been a true assassin—I did not even know there was such a thing. But if you think that maybe I am meant to be a true assassin, then I will do whatever you think I should to achieve that, Ezio."

He nodded and gestured for her to keep walking. "It is not unlikely that whoever in your family who is descended from the assassins decided to keep it from you. It would not have been the first time a family no longer wanted to be associated with us and it would not be the first time a mother or father did not want their daughter to become an assassin."

"Well, my parents keeping things from me would not be something shocking to discover."

An hour or so later, Ezio and Natalia were riding through the streets of Rome, heading for the bridge that would take them into the farmland on the outskirts of the city. That was where the scouts had spotted Anna and Katarina, at a Borgia camp outside of their infernal towers. They had decided to go by themselves, as it would be easier to sneak in and out and two would cause a lot less panic than anymore assassins. The sun was setting behind them, just as they had planned. They would do this under the cover of darkness.

The horse Natalia had been given to ride was a large black gelding, bigger than any horse she'd ridden before, and he was anxious, wanted to run. Next to Ezio's calm chestnut mount, it almost made Natalia laugh. As soon as they broke out of the cobblestoned streets of Rome, she dug heels into the horse's sides and took off, the horse's excess energy propelling them way ahead of Ezio and his horse, but it did not take the assassin long to catch up to Natalia. At a galloping pace that was nearly an all-out run, the land between Rome proper and the Borgia tower in the distance disappeared rather quickly and it wasn't long before they had to slow the horses down and dismount, so they could sneak the rest of the way on foot.

The wall outside the camp was high, but it was almost nothing to Ezio and Natalia, who dropped lightly down into the shadows on the other side a few seconds later, without so much as a second thought. Natalia crouched behind a nearby wall and adjusted her hood; Ezio was standing above her, peeking around the same corner, standing so close his legs were pressed against her back.

"Why are the uniforms white?" she whispered as quietly as she could. "It would be easier to sneak around if they were black."

Ezio just smiled down at her.

They watched a patrol of guards walk by their hiding place before moving quietly down the alley to a low building which they easily pulled themselves onto. The girls were in a building near the back of the compound, not quite a jail, but close to it; the actual prison was right next door. The assassins leapt onto the adjacent building, using the window sills and other decorations on the outside of the building to ascend to an area where they could survey the compound without being seen. There was one guard on top of the building, leaning on the low wall and looking very bored. Ezio nodded, giving Natalia the single.

She pulled herself up beside the guard as he was looking the other way and drove her hidden blade into the man's chest, puncturing the thin leather armour and going up into his heart. He didn't notice until it was too late, and even as the life left his face, he looked confused, as if he didn't understand that he was dying. Natalia laid the body down, tucked up against the wall as Ezio climbed onto the roof as well.

"Anna and Katarina are over there," he said, pointing to a small square building. There were only a few guards outside, and they were mostly focused on the prison. "It should not be too hard to get in."

"No, it'll be getting out that will be difficult. Are we going to sneak around the back?"

Ezio nodded. "Most of the guards marched out yesterday to meet Cesare and his men as they returned to the city, so even if we are seen, there will not be much backup."

"Huh. Lucky."

Ezio looked sideways at Natalia, who flashed him a wild grin full of her excitement and anticipation for what was about to happen. With a small shake of his head, he led the way down the building and across the shadows to the far wall of the encampment. Another small contingent of guards passed, and as they moved beyond the range of vision, Natalia and Ezio crept along the wall to the edge of the building. Natalia peeked around the corner and saw the guards all clustered around the door of the prison next door. She gestured to Ezio and he moved out ahead of her, allowing her to sneak into the building through the front door; the guards were so occupied with whatever they were doing that they didn't even notice as Ezio turned and entered the building behind her—it seemed that when the head of the Borgia guards were away, the lesser guards let their stupid and lazy instincts take over.

Anna and Katarina were lying on a bed of straw at the back of the building, ropes tied around their wrists held them in place, anchored to the supporting pillar of the building. Anna's cheeks were stained with tears, her fingers flexing against the ropes as she kept herself from sobbing loudly and her eyes were locked on Katarina, who was lying awfully still.

As Natalia moved closer, she saw the blood-matted straw beneath her daughter's body, the blood in her hair at the back of her head and the way the line of her scalp wasn't quite right...

Katarina's skull had been bashed in.

Natalia's hand flew to her mouth and she dropped to her knees between her daughters; Ezio remained by the door, watching and waiting and leaving his friend to deal with the horrific situation until she needed him.

"Mommy?" Anna breathed.

Natalia turned away from her late daughter to focus on the one she could still save. She pushed her hood back and smiled at the young girl. "Anna, Mommy's here." She untied her daughter's hands and pulled the girl close. Her eyes began to burn as Anna latched on, pressing her face into her mother's shoulder and sobbing. "Shh Anna. You have to be quiet so we can get out of here."

"Who is he Mommy?"

"His name is Ezio. He's a friend."

As if his name had summoned him, Ezio's hand appeared on Natalia's shoulder. "Let's go Natalia," he said quietly.

She nodded, cast one last look at the broken body her daughter and followed Ezio back towards the front door. They repeated the cover and run procedure they'd used to get into the building, but as they were making for the shadows of the wall, a guard spotted them and yelled.

"Get out of here Natalia," Ezio said, no longer trying to keep his voice quiet.

"Ezio—"

"Go, ride to the mercenaries' headquarters. I will find you there."

Anna was shrieking loudly and Natalia was afraid to leave Ezio alone to deal with the Borgia guards, but she nodded and ran to the shadows, somehow clambering over the wall and hitting the grass on the either side with Anna still in her arms. She whistled as she'd been taught and the horses appeared from where they'd been grazing moments before. The former farmer's wife climbed into the saddle, her daughter in front of her and spurred her horse into motion. She'd been to the mercenaries headquarters before and met their leader, Bartolomeo d'Alviano and quite liked him. They'd be safe there.

As they rode, she tightened her arms around her daughter and let the tears stream silently down her cheeks. Katarina had joined her father in the afterlife, far too early, and Natalia felt responsible. She kissed her daughter's head and said a silent prayer that Ezio would make it out alive.

* * *

"Natalia was a tough one," Rebecca breathed as she watched her computer screen. There were tears in her eyes and her arms were crossed over her chest, as if she was hugging herself.

"Why didn't she go back?" Shaun asked. He was standing behind Rebecca, a hand resting idly on one of her narrow shoulders.

Desmond sighed, barely perceptible and turned her eyes to Isobel, who was still out, even though the Animus wasn't turned on anymore; it was the first time she hadn't awoken immediately after the session had finished. "Natalia trusted Ezio completely. She wouldn't disobey his orders. She never did. He told her to go, she went. But more so, she had to save her daughter." Desmond realized his hand was resting on Isobel's knee. He didn't move it.

"It's like some tragic love story," Rebecca observed. There was a smile on her face now.

Desmond wanted to laugh, but nothing really came out. He squeezed Isobel's knee and just gave Rebecca and Shaun a weak smile and nodded. Before anyone could say anything else however, Lucy walked back into the Sanctuary—she'd been spending a lot of time in the city or doing work in the stairwell, away from Isobel and Natalia. She looked at Isobel still unconscious in the Animus and then at Desmond's hand on her leg. She dropped the bag of food she was carrying on the table by the mini-fridge and then set about stocking it, obviously ignoring the situation. Desmond didn't move his hand.

Isobel started to stir then and the young man turned his attention to her. She opened her olive green eyes and they were red, like she'd been crying, and she reached up to Desmond with her arm that wasn't attached to the machine. He moved across to grab her hand and help her sit up. Rebecca obliged the silent request and detached the young girl's arm from the machine, letting her get up, even though she had to move slowly and be supported by Desmond in order to do it. She leaned heavily on Desmond and he wrapped an arm around her waist as he helped her across the room to the sleeping bag she'd been using.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

Isobel nodded. "That just wore me out a lot... I'm not really sure why."

"It's happened to me before." Desmond sat Isobel down on the ground, her back against the stone wall of the sanctuary. He brushed her hair back from her sweat-dampened face and wiped away the few tears that had trickled out of her eyes. "Of course, I never cry," he added with a small smile as he sat down beside her.

Isobel laughed and leaned into Desmond, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

Lucy crossed the room, a can of Coke in hand. She handed it to Isobel and crouched down in front of her. "How are you feeling?"

Isobel, more than a little confused, accepted the drink, blinking slowly. "Uh... I'm all right. Just exhausted."

Lucy gave her a warm smile that looked more than a little forced, but Isobel appreciated the sentiment. "Just let me know if you need anything," the blonde woman said.

Isobel didn't plan on asking Lucy for anything, but she nodded and thanked her for the drink before she returned to her computer across the room. Isobel took a drink from the Coke and leaned in Desmond more, her eyes flickering closed. If she could have seen Desmond's face, she would have seen him looking across the room at Lucy. But then she would have seen him turn his attention to her and lightly press his lips to the top of her head before he removed the can of Coke from her hand which allowed her to curl up to Desmond and go to sleep.

* * *

**Author's Note.**

Okay, super sorry this took so long. I'm trying very hard to stick to my updating order, so sometimes I gotta fight to write what's next instead of what I want to update next. Also, it is now March, which means five research papers... UGH. Also, personal issues. Nothing serious, but man. That's a lot of stuff to wade through to write.

Anyways, enjoy.

**Next Chapter: Sequence 04—Promotion. **


	5. Sequence 04: Promotion

I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Sequence 04—Promotion.

* * *

Bartolomeo d'Alviano, leader of the mercenaries, watched Natalia pace back and forth, the material of the green dress she'd borrowed from his wife flowing out behind her and wrapping around her legs as she moved. Her black hair was unbound and still damp from the bath she'd taken, but she didn't look calm and relaxed. In fact, she was positively wound, her eyes dark with the various emotion flooding across her face. Anna was asleep in the room Bartolomeo shared with his wife, who was in there watching over the girl, and Ezio... Ezio had not yet returned.

"Where is he?" she wondered aloud for the fourth or fifth time in the last ten minutes.

"Natalia," Bartolomeo said, rising to his feet and moving to stand in her way. She actually bumped into him before she stopped walking and then frowned, looking up at him. "Why don't you go lie down with your daughter; get some sleep. I will wake you when Ezio arrives."

The young Roman peered at the doorway around Bartolomeo's shoulder and then looked up at the taller man. "Once we were safe, away from the Borgia camp, she wouldn't talk to me. She wouldn't even look at me." She sighed and ran her hands backwards over her face and then through her hair. "I think I will let her sleep before we talk or... anything." Natalia cleared her throat.

"Are you just going to leave her?" Bartolomeo asked, his voice lowering to a dangerous level.

"No, of course not!" Natalia snapped. "I... I don't know what I'm going to do yet, Bartolomeo. I don't want to leave her, but this life as an Assassin... this is what I was meant to do. My parents keeping it from me when I was growing up was wrong. I will not keep Anna in the dark about this life. She will have a choice, but as for this moment, for the immediate future, I do not know what I am going to do..." Natalia crossed the room quickly and looked out the window, her forehead pressed against the coloured glass.

Bartolomeo came up behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder. "You do not have to decide right this second, Natalia and I am sorry for offending you. Anna is safe here. I will not let anything happen to her while you are deciding. Why don't you go for a walk? Or go downstairs and watch the fights? You could make a little money and it might help clear your head."

Natalia actually laughed. "I think I will head downstairs, Bartolomeo. Could be fun."

"I'll send Ezio down when he arrives. Have you ever seen him fight?" When Natalia shook her head, the big man laughed. "Well then, you are in for a treat! He is the best fighter I have ever seen! Of course, he is an Assassin and fighting is what he's trained to do, but the fact still stands." Bartolomeo smiled at Natalia. "My wife will watch over your daughter until you are ready to see her."

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

With one last nod from her host, Natalia crossed the room and descended down the narrow staircase, following the path she'd been shown on her first visit to the wooden steps that would take her down to the fighting ring. As she drew closer, she could hear the shouting and cheering and the thick sounds of fists hitting flesh. Natalia had watched the fights for a while the last time she visited the mercenaries and she wasn't surprised to find that she was the only woman down there; she didn't mind. This time, however, there were a couple other women among the men, cheering as loudly as their male counterparts. Natalia found a spot to stand where she could see the ring and tried to find the normal spirit she had, but it wouldn't come; she was just too distracted by thoughts of her daughter and of Ezio.

Almost as if he was summoned by her thoughts, the Assassin appeared beside her, placing a hand on the back of shoulder to let her know where he was. "Sorry I took so long," he said.

"Where were you? Are you okay?"

Ezio smiled and pushed his hood back from his face. "I had to attend to some business with the Brotherhood and I knew you would be safe here for a while I did so, I am fine. Is Anna all right?"

"Yes. Her wrists are bandaged and there were no other wounds. She's been asleep since we got back."

"And you?" he asked, moving a fraction of an inch closer; it wasn't much, but it was enough.

For some reason, Natalia blushed and looked down, hugging herself tightly, but she didn't move back. "I'm not physically injured, but Anna won't look at me and she won't talk to me. I don't know what I'm going to do. I came down here to try and unwind, but it's not really working."

Ezio was silent for a second, almost as if he was going to say something else. Instead, he chuckled and said, "It's too bad you can't fight." As she was nodding her agreement, Ezio started undoing the buckles of the thick belt he wore bearing the symbol of the Assassins. Following her confused gaze, Ezio smirked. "Just because you cannot fight, doesn't mean I'm not going to." He draped his belt and white Assassin robes over a wooden rack meant for just that and then handed Natalia his hidden blade—the only weapon he'd brought down to the ring.

Natalia returned the cheeky smile and watched him walk towards the middle of the fighting arena; she was starting to feel better, happier and more focused. The arena wasn't clearly defined by anything except the crowd of people, but Natalia could see almost the entire ring clearly from her position at the back and there was no reason for her to try and get closer. She wasn't really keen on wiggling through the sweaty people in front of her. As she watched Ezio face his first opponent, Natalia's hands ran over the contours of the ornate weapon and she could feel herself smiling, even if she was feeling a little unattached from the situation.

Ezio won the first fight, a one-on-one battle, with no visible effort and moved on to a two-on-one, the cheers getting louder and louder with each blow. Natalia was quiet, but she wasn't exactly watching the fight. Her green eyes were locked on Ezio, watching his fluid movements, the concentration and joy on his face. As she watched him, her eyes slid down the curve of his back, watching the muscles play underneath his skin...

As soon as she realized the direction of her thoughts, Natalia shook her head.

Watching Ezio made her feel better, but she couldn't let herself have those thoughts about him, not when she had a daughter who she had to win back, not when she had to make decision about what she was going to do with her life—she couldn't complicate things further.

Carefully, she set the hidden blade on the rack with Ezio's other things and left the arena quickly and quietly, heading for the ladder that would take her to the roof, to a solitary place where she could think, where she could look for some answers. The ladder was one of several that led to the flat roof of the compound, and luckily, the section of roof she picked was empty. Natalia hoisted herself onto the crenulations and sat with her feet dangling over the edge and her face turned up to the stars and the half moon.

She had no idea how long she sat there, but some time later, a hand appeared on her shoulder. Natalia turned and smiled at Ezio, knowing it would be him before she did so. "How'd the fights go?" she asked, voice quiet.

"I won." Natalia smiled and Ezio leaned a little closer; he was wearing a loose white shirt now, instead of his Assassin's robes and he didn't look like he was armed, but Natalia knew better. Ezio was always armed. "Why did you leave?" he asked, turning to lean back against the crenulations so he could look up into Natalia's face easier.

"I just needed to think; find some answers."

"Did you find them?"

Natalia hopped gracefully down from her perch and stood in front of Ezio, letting him see how confused and conflicted she was. "I think tomorrow, I'm going to take Anna to my sister's house. She can stay there for a few days while I figure out what I'm going to do. I'm scheduled to go to Moscow tomorrow with Marco. I'll figure this out when I get back from that mission."

Ezio took a step closer to the young woman and brushed a few strands of black hair back from her tan cheek. "If I'm not mistaken, this will be your last mission before you can become an Assassin?"

Natalia nodded, leaning into his hand. Her arms were crossed under her chest. "I don't think I can leave this life now, Ezio, but how am I supposed to leave Anna?"

"I don't have children Natalia, I can't give you any answers , but if you decide to stay with the Assassins, you will be able to visit Anna whenever you want and if she wants to become one of us when she's older, she can. My suspicions about you were correct; you're a true Assassin which means your daughter will be to if she so chooses." Ezio used his hand on Natalia's face to draw her closer to him and wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her against him.

She sobbed quietly and put her forehead against his shoulder. "I'm sorry Ezio," she said almost immediately, pulling back.

Ezio didn't let her move. "You have nothing to apologize for, Natalia."

When she pulled back this time, he let her go and she moved across the rampart. It wasn't a very big space, but it was big enough to put her beyond arm's reach. She paced back and forth a bit, running her fingers back through her hair and rotating her shoulders, trying to loosen some tension and calm down. Eventually she stopped and turned to face Ezio, her arms crossed under her chest. She was trying to close down, but failing. Ezio could see tears on her cheeks and a fine trembling in her shoulders. Without hesitating, he crossed the rampart and took Natalia into his arms, ignoring it when she struggled. After a moment, Natalia settled against Ezio's chest and sobbed once, folding herself as tightly as she could against the Assassin. Gently rubbing her back, Ezio hushed her and held her tightly, knowing it was all he could do. When the worst of the sobbing had stopped, Ezio put a hand on either of her cheeks and pushed her back enough to look her in the eye, wiping away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs.

"It will be all right, Natalia," he whispered.

She wrapped her hands around his wrists and leaned into his hands. "Thank you Ezio..." she breathed in response.

They stared at each other for several long seconds as Natalia's tears slowed and there was a small, tentative smile flickering across her lips, undeterred by the shaking still moving through her body. Using only his hands on her face, Ezio pulled her close to him again, keeping her looking up at him. She transferred her hands to his chest as he leaned down and kissed her, a soft touch of lips to hers. A small noise escaped her lips and Ezio kissed her deeper, hands sliding down to wrap around her waist and pull her against him. Natalia wrapped her arms around his neck and Ezio walked them backwards until he was pressing her against the wall, one hand on either side of her and he kissed her deeper.

"Ezio— "

"Hush, Natalia," he breathed against her cheek.

She pulled his face up to look him in the eye and kissed him again, running her hands down his arms and across his chest. Ezio made a noise in his throat, halfway between a growl and a moan before taking her hands and leading her back towards the ladder that would take them back into the back corner of the fortress, an area where no one ventured except for patrol detail and intimate activities, not unlike the ones crossing Natalia's mind as Ezio led her into an unused bedroom, waiting for a mercenary recruit to make it home. He kissed her again as he shut the door and as Natalia's hands pulled his shirt over his head.

* * *

Natalia stood on the edge of the roof of the Assassin's headquarters, Ezio standing to her left and the few members of the Brotherhood who weren't away on missions were arrayed behind her. She had just completed the final mission in her training and was about to take the Leap of Faith that would complete the ritual and make her an Assassin in truth; the fresh wound where the tip of her finger had been removed throbbed, but she was too excited to pay it much mind. The mission in Moscow had been a success and she was still riding the high. She and Marco had just returned the night before and she had been thrilled to find Ezio attending to business at the headquarters. He had informed her that her daughter was doing well as her sister's place just outside of Rome and she had read the letter Natalia had left her detailing her heritage as an Assassin and outlining the choice she had to make when she was a little older. They had spent the night together before the ceremony in the morning where Natalia would take that final step.

She turned her smiling face to Ezio. "It's higher than I thought it would be," she whispered so only he could hear.

He gave her a small, encouraging smile—she wasn't scared, but she was nearly vibrating with excitement. This was her life now and she had embraced it. It had not been easy to leave her daughter in the hands of her aunt, but Natalia had decided on being an Assassin, on helping stop the Borgia so no one else had to go through the pain of losing their families, losing their lives. Anna would understand that eventually. Hopefully.

Sucking in a deep breath, Natalia extended her arms out to either side of her body and leapt into the air, forming her body into a graceful dive as she moved. The Leap of Faith was something she had done before, but the sight of the dark water rushing up to meet her still made her nervous, made images of broken bones flash through her mind, but she sliced into the water without so much as a splash and resurfaced laughing, the hood of her new, white Assassin robes sticking to the sides of her face with her black hair. She swam to the nearby dock and hauled herself onto the sun-warmed wood, feet dangling over the edge and waved up at the others, waiting on the roof.

She was an Assassin and nothing else seemed to matter in that moment.

* * *

Isobel woke up on the floor, staring up at the ceiling of the Sanctuary. Rebecca's face appeared above hers, a relieved smile on her face. "Desmond," she called. "She's awake; she's okay."

"What happened?" Isobel asked, her voice croaking like she hadn't had a drink in a long time. She coughed and let Rebecca help her sit up, the world blurring more than it probably should have been as she moved. "Why am I on the floor?"

Desmond was suddenly crouched beside her, handing her a bottle of water with one hand while supporting her with the other on her back. "You passed out as soon as you stood up out of the Animus. Shaun caught you before you hit the floor, so you shouldn't be injured, but you've been out for almost twenty minutes. We were starting to get worried." The look in his eyes said that he had been exceptionally worried, probably more so than anyone else, but there was relief there now.

Isobel took a long drink from the water and instantly felt better; not completely stable, but better. She put the water on the ground in front of her and smiled at Desmond. "I'm all right now, I think. I've never passed out from an Animus session before." Desmond helped her stand and grabbed her water bottle from the floor before helping her over to a chair. "Thanks for catching me Shaun," she called before taking another drink. The cool water was really helping; if only there was like a pond or lake or something she could jump in a cool off...

"Are you okay Isobel?" Lucy asked from her position behind the computer.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Probably just too much time in there too quickly." She drained the water and placed it on the table beside some empty cans of pop. "Do you think it'd be safe to go outside for a bit?" she asked Desmond.

Desmond nodded and helped her rise to her feet. Isobel took a moment, but no wave of dizziness or nausea came and she was able to walk up the stairs and out into the courtyard on her own. The cool night air felt wonderful on her face; she realized then that her cheeks were wet, but whether it was from tears or sweat, she couldn't be sure. Her and Desmond tread a familiar path towards the edge of the property and walked along the modern fence that had been installed to protect tourists from the cliff. It wasn't a path they had ever walked together, but like so much between them, it felt familiar. Desmond took Isobel's hand and it just felt right.

"Natalia continues to surprise," he said after a few moments of silence.

Isobel nodded. "She does have a tendency to appear cold. She left her life and her daughter without much outward turmoil and she took to a life of assassinating people without any evidence of a conscience."

"Ezio clearly saw something warm and compassionate in her," Desmond said, his voice quiet, cautious.

Isobel's cheeks flared slightly, but she smiled and nodded, squeezing Desmond's hand. "Clearly." She let the tense moment pass and then said, "How come you never saw these things before?"

"We were just accessing certain memories and sometimes they skip significant periods of time. I knew Ezio and Natalia had a relationship and that she was important to him, but other details I only got in passing. Before today, I had only heard of Anna in a letter and, aside from when Ezio recruited Natalia, there was never any sign of her feelings towards the loss of her family or of her abandoning Anna. I thought she was cold, but I knew there had to be more." Desmond stopped their progress around the yard and turned Isobel so she was facing him; his thumb ran along the back of her hand in a comforting gesture. "How are you feeling now?"

Isobel considered the question for a moment. "Physically, I'm feeling much better; still a little weak."

"And otherwise?"

She laughed at the inquisitive expression on Desmond's face. "_Otherwise_, I'm fine, except... except for the weight of Natalia's emotions. She may not have shown what she was feeling, but she felt everything inside and she felt is acutely." Isobel took a step closer to Desmond, still holding his hand. "She hated the choices she made, but she knew they were right, but she never really forgave herself and experiencing that memory again just brought it all back."

Desmond tugged gently on her hand and she closed the distance, resting her forehead against his chest. "Maybe the bleeding effect was what made you pass out?" he suggested quietly.

"Maybe." She turned her head so her cheek was against Desmond's chest and let him wrap his arms around her, holding her close, her eyes closing as the comfort gained from their touching swam through her. "You know," she said after a moment, "I've never seen anything beyond this point, except for moments when Ezio and her were alone, when they might start talking about that Piece of Eden."

Desmond moved back, just enough to look down at Isobel. The movement made her pull back until she was standing on her own a few inches away from him. "You don't know what happens?"

"No. Do you?"

"No."

Isobel gave a slightly bitter smile. "Great. So we're going in unprepared."

"You think something bad is going to happen?"

Isobel reached across the space and took Desmond's hand again, tugging gently as she started walking again. "I don't know," she admitted. "It's been so long since I went into the Animus unprepared for what I was about to see..."

"You'll be fine. Rebecca, Shaun and I will be right there."

"I know." She smiled at him over her shoulder before slowing so he could walk beside her. They had finished their circuit of the yard and were heading back towards the study and the hidden staircase that would take them down to the Sanctuary. When they were within the shelter of Villa Auditore however, Desmond stopped their progress again. "What is it?" Isobel asked.

"If you don't want to go back into the Animus, you don't have to."

"I know," she replied. "I want to. I'd like to finally see what happened to Natalia."

Desmond nodded and started towards the staircase again, stopping beside Isobel to place a kiss lightly on her cheek. "Me too."

* * *

**Author's Note.**

Holy long chapter! For this fic, anyway.

Sorry this took so long. Blame school and the fact that I kept getting errors with . Oh well, that's all passed now, so just enjoy the chapter! My writing will increase in a couple weeks when I'm done school for good!

My undergrad at least. *sticks tongue out*

**Next Chapter: Sequence 05—Loss of the New Life. **


	6. Sequence 05: Loss of the New Life

X`I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

* * *

**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Sequence 05—Loss of the New Life.

* * *

Normally, Natalia liked going for a horseback ride at night. She liked seeing the world under moonlight and surrounded by the shadows between the trees that somehow seemed thick and alive. She especially liked riding at night if Ezio was there as well; they had spent nights riding out around Rome, hunting down the Borgia and their hired agents. There was something about riding at night that was more dangerous, more intimate, more… fun.

However, she did not like trying to chase someone on horseback at night, or several someones as the case currently was. She couldn't see, not as well as she would have liked, and those shadows that were alive and weird seemed to leap out from the trees and block her eyesight, to claw at her robes and her horse and try to slow her down. She was hunched low over her horse's neck, crossbow in one hand, and peering through the shadows, ready for when she was within range and could see one of her targets clear enough to shoot. Ezio was slightly ahead of her, his stance echoing hers right down to the crossbow.

They were chasing several Borgia guards—Natalia couldn't even count how many there were—high in the ranks of the organization. They were all leaders, assigned to watch over the Borgia Towers throughout Rome, men who had direct connections to Cesere. Natalia had been told their names, but she didn't remember what they were and she didn't particularly care. The Assassins had told her they needed to be hunted down and stopped and that was what her and Ezio were doing. She and Ezio had already taken out five of the guards. They had laid in ambush for the guards and taken out three with their hidden blades; Ezio had taken two and Natalia, who had not yet been able to master handling two of the narrow blades at once, had taken out one. Afterwards, they had taken two of the horses left behind to pursue the others. Another guard had fallen to Ezio's superior crossbow skills and yet another had taken a dive from his horse when Natalia had landed a lucky shot with her throwing knives. But there were still quite a few of them left.

Natalia crouched lower over the buckskin's neck and urged the gelding faster. His breath was coming in ragged pants and his eyes were rolling, showing too much white. The horse was nearing the end of his rope. Natalia didn't want to ride him into the ground, but she didn't want to lose the Borgia guards either. Frowning, she straightened and took aim with her crossbow, flexing her legs tightly to remain upright in the saddle and not fall off.

She fired and one of the guards fell, the bolt of her crossbow sticking out of the man's back. The young assassin let out a bark of laughter and leapt gracefully into the new saddle when the horse was within range. The white beast was younger and not as tired and took Natalia right back to the pack of the Borgia guards as it had probably been trained to do. The guards, after all, had had pretty serious military training. It was likely their mounts had too. Natalia drew her knives, wickedly curved and nearly as long as her forearm, and swung both around before she drove the tips of both into the sides of two of the guards at the same time she screamed, spooking the horses into breaking away from the group.

As she was carried along with the pack, an idea appeared in Natalia's mind. She turned to look over her shoulder and found Ezio almost directly behind her. Their eyes locked and he nodded, like he knew what she was going to do; he probably did. Natalia smiled, a flash of white teeth in the night, and then kicked her mount forward, dividing the pack of guards into two. By her estimate, there were about seven left and the largest group veered left, Ezio following on the heels of their horses. Natalia chased her own smaller group towards a stand of trees.

Ezio ran the guards in front of him down quickly and efficiently, with skills befitting any assassin. He laid them all to rest and let their horses run off and find a new home and then turned his own horse around to find and assist Natalia if need be; he had faith that she was trained well enough to take care of herself and complete her mission. After all, she was an assassin, and she had worked to get there as hard as anyone he'd seen. True Assassins were not easily taken out, but bad things did happen and they could happen to anyone. He didn't want anything bad to happen to Natalia.

He followed his memory's path and made in the direction the other guards had gone, driven by Natalia. The trees they had vanished into grew close together and the shadows they formed were thick, nearly tangible. Ezio passed the white steed Natalia had taken control of, grazing idly around the roots of one of the trees. There was another horse not far away, accompanied by a body, pierced several times over by the thin throwing knives Natalia had taken a liking too. He progressed farther into the shadows, eyes narrowed, body tense and ready. After a few more feet, he dismounted and moved on foot, the fall of leaves on the ground silencing the little noise his footsteps made; his horse trotted slowly away to join the others. He passed another body, curled around the base of a tree.

He'd only taken a few more steps when he heard the noises of a struggle. Ezio moved silently towards it.

Darker shadows were painted across a boulder lying half-embedded in the ground and covered in moss. Ezio identified one of the shadows as Natalia, which meant the other was a Borgia guard.

Ezio silently deployed his hidden blade and crept towards the confrontation.

"Let go you stupid bitch!"

"Like hell." Natalia grunted and threw her weight forward, pressing towards the Borgia guard, her hands in front of her chest; she was pressing something into the guard above her. Another noise escaped her mouth, this one more pain-filled than the previous. "You will die."

"You will die as well!" the guard exclaimed in a strained voice.

Ezio knew the voice speaking to Natalia: he was a high-ranking Borgia guard, someone with considerable power in addition to considerable training, but the thought of Natalia coming to harm or even dying urged him to act without thinking of any of those things. He broke through the trees and tackled the Borgia guard off Natalia, the pair rolling until they struck the rough bark of a tree trunk. Natalia cried out, but Ezio was only focused on the man beneath him as he drove his hidden blade deeper into the Borgia man's chest, pointed up, beside Natalia's knife which had stuck on a rib as she tried for his heart.

"Ezio…"

The Assassin moved off the dead body as the last breath rattled from its lips and scrambled across the space between him and Natalia. He dropped to his knees beside her and gently scooped her into his lap, holding her against his chest and stomach. "Natalia."

She smiled up at him, her bright olive eyes still shimmering in the shadows.

Ezio tried to return the smile, but his eyes kept going to the knife sticking out of her chest, angled up towards her heart, like she had tried to do with the guard. Her white Assassin robes were stained crimson with the dark heart blood and her hands were fluttering around the blade as if she wasn't sure what to do about it. Ezio knew that she had driven the knife further in to her own torso as she attempted to get closer to the Borgia guard and kill him, fulfill her mission. He gently brushed stray strands of black hair form her face and ran his fingers down her tan cheek.

"It was stupid," she croaked, her hands falling limp at her sides.

"Maybe," Ezio managed with a faint smile. "Here." He fished out a vial of medicine from his belt and tipped it past her lips.

She drank it down, coughed and then shook her head. She coughed again and the blood pumped faster around the blade; a few drops spattered on her chin. "Nope." The fingers of one hand curled around the front of Ezio's robes and pulled him down towards her. "Anna," she said around another cough. "Take care of her. Make sure she's safe."

Ezio nodded and took her hand in his own. "Natalia…"

She smiled at him and raised her hand from his to run her fingers lightly across his lips. "Thank you, Ezio."

He returned that bright smile. "I will make sure Anna's taken care of, Natalia. You can let go," he said with a barely perceptible sniff. Natalia coughed again and nodded, almost absently. She closed her eyes and rolled slightly, into the warmth Ezio provided, her hand tightening around his robes. He held her close for a moment and then laid her gently on the ground and he pressed his lips softly to hers. With his mouth hovering just above hers, Ezio whispered, "_Requiescat in pace amores."_

* * *

The machine shut down with its soft whirring noise, but Isobel did not rise from the Animus immediately. She remained deathly still for so long that everyone, including Lucy, began to worry; not even her chest rose and fell with shallow breathing and her pulse was hardly there. The others all gathered around the red and white chair, looking down at their newest companion. Desmond crouched down and placed a hand on her leg, just above her knee, and Rebecca turned back to her computers to check Isobel's vitals. Shaun paced back and forth beside the chair, on the opposite side from Desmond, while Lucy remained stoic with her arms crossed at Isobel's feet. A tense silence fell over the Sanctuary as all eyes watched her unmoving form.

Close to five minutes later, Isobel drew in a great, shaking breath, her chest actually rising from the chair slightly as she did so. The colour returned to her face as her breathing regulated, but still she did not open her eyes. Desmond shifted until he was sitting on the ground beside the chair, still with his hand on her leg and they waited, waited, waited.

When she did awake, another fifteen minutes later, it was violent. Isobel lurched forward into a sitting position, and fell from the Animus, crumbling towards the floor, shaking violently. Desmond caught her before she could hit the floor, but not soon enough to keep his balance. He had to set her gently on the floor so they didn't both topple over and so he didn't land on her. Desmond dropped to the ground beside her and rolled her over so she was looking up at the ceiling. The shaking had stopped. Her cheeks were soaked with tears and her eyes were bloodshot. Her hand fluttered on the ground before it found Desmond's and she latched on tightly. He squeezed her hand back, but didn't try and move her; he wasn't sure if moving her would be a good idea. He did, however, lean over her and brush the strands of hair from her face just as Ezio had done.

"Don't you think about giving up," he told her, only loud enough for her to hear.

She gave him a small grin that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry about me." Isobel squeezed his hand again and then slowly forced herself into a sitting position. "Help me to the sleeping bags."

Desmond got to his feet and slipped his shoulder under her arm. She wrapped her arms loosely around him and they walked to one side of the Sanctuary. By the time they reached the steps, Isobel was moving on her own, but still accepted Desmond's help in getting herself settled on the ground with her back against the wall. Lucy, who had been absorbed in her computer doing who knew what, brought a sandwich and a can of Coke to Isobel, smiled at her and then returned to the table that had become her workstation. Isobel just watched her go, hands lightly holding onto the food.

"Are you okay?" Desmond asked as Isobel began to pick at the bread.

Her eyes were on the ground. "I honestly don't know," she whispered. "I wasn't expecting…"

"Her death."

Isobel looked up at Desmond, her eyes brimming with fresh tears, and nodded. "Not like that anyway. I mean… I guess I should have known she'd go out fighting, but that was…"

Desmond moved closer to Isobel so he could wrap his arms around her as he hushed her. She leaned into him, nuzzling her cheek into the curve where his neck joined his shoulder and cried quietly. There was a hole inside, something that hadn't been there before. She had known Natalia was part of her past, part of her, but she hadn't expected it to feel like this when she was gone. Of course, Isobel hadn't been expecting to witness her death. She had seen all of Natalia's life now, short-lived as it was, and her end had left a hole. She curled closer to Desmond and balled her hand around the front of her shirt, over where she thought the hole would be.

"I feel empty," she whispered.

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**Author's Note.**

I'm not sure if there's anyone besides Shauna waiting for this one, but here it is and I am sorry it took so long. I really need to not have so many projects on the go at once, but I can say that as much as I want. I know I'm still going to write multiple fics at once. Anyways, there's just the one chapter left of this one, so I think I'll finish this one up. Then I will post the next book of my **Supernatural **fic, and then whatever I finish up after that will be replaced by the next **Star Trek **fic.

So, I'm excited for November and the next **Assassin's Creed **game. Just thought I'd share that. :P I now have something to keep me going over Christmas before **Mass Effect 3 **comes out.

And dude, I forgot how much I LOVE the music from **Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest. **I think Hans Zimmer should have won an Oscar for this soundtrack. It kicks serious ass. This is unrelated, except for the fact that I'm watching it as I'm writing this. Seriously good movie.

Uh, I might write more **Assassin's Creed **stuff later, but I don't know. There's nothing really there except a desire to write more with Isobel and Natalia, but it's nothing concrete and I really should spend more time with my original fiction, but I guess we'll see, won't we?

Anyways, enjoy.

Oh, and for the record, I don't know if the Latin phrasing is correct or not. I tried.

**Next Chapter: Present 02—Reunited. **


	7. Present 02: Reunited

I do not own **Assassin's Creed** or any of the associated media or content. I do own Natalia Fia-Costa, Isobel Payne and the parts of this plot that aren't from the game **Assassin's Creed: Brotherhood. **This fic goes along with the game, but the focus is elsewhere. Sort of a companion piece. It is rated for language, violence and sexual content.

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**Assassin's Creed: Fires of Rome.  
**Present 02—Reunited.

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When the tears had dried, Isobel excused herself and left the Sanctuary and its stuffy air for the mild predawn outside, leaving her food and worried friends behind. She climbed back up onto the roof of the Villa Auditore, slower than she would have before seeing Natalia meet her end, her footing less sure. Near the top, her foot missed a hold and she almost fell, her fingers the only things holding her up, the digits gripping desperately to the edge of the terracotta roof tiles. Isobel groaned and pulled herself up, the rough toes of her boots gripping the old walls and letter her scramble onto the roof. She laid there for a moment, breathing heavily and taking in the smell of the sun-baked tiles.

As the adrenaline from what could have been a fatal fall faded from her system, Isobel pushed herself to her knees and then onto her feet and made her way across the roof to the construction platform in the middle of the bottom section of the square U that the villa formed. It was where her and Desmond had sat the night she had come to Monteriggioni. That had been just over two weeks ago, but it felt like longer. To Isobel, it felt like she belonged in that small Italian village, with the Assassins beneath the building in the Sanctuary; with Lucy, Rebecca, Shaun and Desmond. Especially Desmond. The electricity and comfort the young man's presence gave her had not faded since she'd arrived and she had come to count on it, especially after Animus sessions when she would cling to Desmond, burying her face in his shirt and breathing in the scent of him until she felt better.

Isobel didn't want to leave, but she knew she couldn't stay much longer, not with Abstergo hovering around, waiting for a sign of their elusive prey. She didn't want to draw any more attention to them, to Desmond. She didn't want to be the reason he was captured.

She found herself a space that was mostly hidden, between a couple crates, and wedged herself in, eyes turned towards the east and the rising sun. The grey light of first dawn was flooding the horizon and everything had lost its colour; everything looked black and white. Isobel put her head against one of the crates and sighed heavily, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them tightly. It was mild, but there was a bit of a chill breeze blowing and Isobel had left her sweater inside.

When the red ball of the sun was peaking over the edge of the landscape, Desmond appeared on the roof, far enough away and at the right angle that he wouldn't have been able to see Isobel. He looked around for a moment and, no doubt using the Eagle Vision he'd picked up from Altair and Ezio, found her body signature and started towards her. Isobel had a momentary desire to tell him to go away—she was fine with her hole and her misery—but she knew the feel of Desmond's arms would make her feel better, so she let him come, intrude on her personal space. She pressed herself a little farther into the space, but she let Desmond come.

As he stood in front of her, she caught a ghost-like image of Ezio floating around the edges of Desmond's face. They looked remarkably alike for being as far distant in the family tree as they were. "How are you doing Is?" he asked, his voice mixing with Ezio's.

She couldn't be sure if the effect was actually happening or it was just in her mind. Likely it was the latter and it was thanks to her exposure to Natalia over the last several days. "I… I'm really not sure." She held her head in her hands, ran one hand backwards through her hair.

Desmond sat on the platform in front of her, half-turned so he could look at her. "Come here."

Isobel wiggled out of the space between the crates and let Desmond wrap his arm around her shoulders. "What about being caught by Abstergo satellites or whatever Lucy is worried about?"

Her companion looked down at his watch. "We've got a good twenty minutes before they'll be able to take a clean enough picture."

A great sigh left Isobel and she relaxed, bone by bone, muscles by muscle, letting go of a tension she hadn't even realized she was holding. She pressed her face into Desmond's chest, curled up against him like she would go to sleep. He pressed his lips to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her. They settled back against the crates, comfortable and silent and, for the moment, safe.

"Why did you choose Monteriggioni to run to?" Desmond asked after a moment.

Isobel shrugged with her shoulder that wasn't pinned against him. "I didn't really choose it. It was just the first place I saw that wasn't a farm or a lone house. With an agent following me, I was just looking for somewhere to hide." She pushed herself up to a sitting position so she could look Desmond in the eye. "It was purely coincidental that I showed up here, where you are. Or maybe it wasn't," she added quickly, as if the thought had just occurred to her. "Maybe there was something pulling me here."

Desmond gave her a wistful smile. "Maybe. You knew who I was as soon as you saw me."

"Correction: Natalia knew who you were."

"Let's not split hairs here, Is. You and I both know that after time in the Animus, we're essentially the same as our ancestors. I can barely draw a line in my head between myself, Altair and Ezio."

Isobel settled herself against the crate next to Desmond and stared out ahead, at the rising sun. "I think you three are bound a little tighter than me and Natalia. If I spent a little more time in the Animus, maybe we'd be closer, but I don't plan on going back in there." Tears welled in Isobel's eyes, because part of her did want to go back in, to see Natalia again, even though she knew her Italian ancestor was doomed. She just wanted to see her again. "I want to stop looking over my shoulder, but I know that's not going to happen."

Desmond reached across and grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers, his thumb running back and forth over her skin. She looked up at him, her olive eyes shining with the unshed tears. "Unfortunately, that's part of being an Assassin." He sighed and gave her another smile, this one just a warm gesture meant to be comforting. "You could stay here, you know. With us. We have a pretty good record with escaping Abstergo. You'd be safe with us."

The young woman heard the unspoken "with me" but didn't comment on it. She was sorely tempted to accept that offer, but she knew she couldn't. Abstergo knew she had run into Monteriggioni and knew she had stayed there for almost a month. They knew there was something here and it wouldn't be long before they mounted an intrusion, to find the Assassins who were hiding there. Isobel knew it would be because of her late addition. She was a smart woman and she cared about Desmond and the others, as much as she didn't really like Lucy, she held no ill will. But man, did she want to say yes, she'd stay there, she'd help them find the Piece of Eden, whatever that was. Man, did she want to stay there with Desmond, with the man who made her feel comfortable and safe with just a touch.

"Desmond…"

He squeezed her hand gently, as if he could read her thoughts. "It was just a thought, Is."

"I know." She rolled her head to one side to face him and smiled. "And I would love to stay here, but…"

"It wouldn't be your fault if they found us. They've been chasing us since we escaped from Abstergo. They already know we're here, they just don't know where, and you showing up wouldn't bring them to us. It might bring a little more attention than we want, but that's it."

Isobel squeezed her eyes shut. "I can't stay."

"If you leave, you will be looking over your shoulder forever."

"And here?"

"Here, you wouldn't be alone in facing Abstergo."

Isobel couldn't argue with that, and yet… "Maybe I'll stay for a while longer, Desmond, but I should keep moving."

He knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere with asking Isobel to stay. She had evidently inherited Natalia's stubbornness, and if she had convinced herself that she could bring Abstergo down on Desmond and the others, she wholeheartedly believed it. Desmond sighed and pulled Isobel towards him. The movement brought a laugh from Isobel's lips. She let herself be pulled and then turned at the last moment so she was pressed against Desmond, facing him. She folded her legs underneath her and leaned into him, hands on his chest. He regarded her with a titled head, one side of his mouth quirked up.

"We can take care of ourselves," Desmond said quietly. "You don't need to worry about bringing trouble down on us."

Isobel drew one corner of her bottom lip between her teeth and sat back, folding her hands in her lap.

"Even if you don't stay," Desmond continued, without giving Isobel a chance to say anything else. "We'll have to keep in touch." He reached out and took her hand again. "I don't want to lose you."

Isobel squeezed his hand and dropped her eyes. Her cheeks flared under the emotional confession, but she didn't let go. As the blush passed, she looked up at Desmond and gave him an honest smile. "I don't want to be lost."

Desmond once again pulled her towards him using their hands. Because of the angle they were sitting at, she was forced to put her free hand on his chest to keep from falling. Desmond pulled her closer, wrapping his other arm around her waist and drew her into his lap before wrapping his other arm around her as well. Isobel slid her arms around his neck, her cheeks darkening again.

"I won't lose you."

A small noise escaped Isobel's lips as Desmond pressed his lips to hers. Her first instinct was to pull back. She didn't _really _know Desmond, she had only met him a few short weeks ago… But even as the protests rolled through her mind, she knew she didn't really believe them. She did know Desmond. She knew him better than anyone could know someone because she knew his past, his DNA. As that realization struck her, Isobel leaned into the kiss and let herself be swept up in the moment, in the feeling that something had fallen into place.

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**Author's Note.**

Hey! It's done!

Hope you enjoyed it!

I'm going to move onto something else now!

**Next Chapter: THERE ISN'T ONE!**


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